<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>and life was never better than that. by mouthymandalorian</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562174">and life was never better than that.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthymandalorian/pseuds/mouthymandalorian'>mouthymandalorian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Narcos (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon-Typical Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:47:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthymandalorian/pseuds/mouthymandalorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>javi was the love of your life, and he left you without a word. can you ever move on?</p><p>gn reader :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Javier Peña/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and life was never better than that.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://mouthymandalorian.tumblr.com">tumblr.</a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>i'm back on my Javi bullshit.</p><p>y'all, this is an angst-fest. I've been trapped in my house because of a snowstorm since sunday and I needed to put my frustration somewhere. also, Javi in the snow sounds like the most wonderful thing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You remember Javi most when it snows.<b><br/>
</b></p><p>Sometimes, when you close your eyes, you see swirling snowflakes tumbling from the sky; landing in his hair, contrasting with his dark brown locks and mustache. You see him bathed in the yellow light of the street lamp, holding his hand out, palm up, to catch the falling snow. You see him look up, smiling like a child, eyes crinkled, lips parted in wonder. Javi was from Texas, you from Louisiana. There wasn’t a lot of snow in either of your lives.</p><p>So when the glittering flakes fell from the night sky, it was startling. You’d noticed an unusual chill in the air, but thought little of it. Javier had given you his leather jacket to wear. You’d protested, telling him he couldn’t, because then he’d be cold. He said he didn’t mind.</p><p>You’d been dancing around each other for months, years even. He spoke to you with great care; an almost-reverent quality to his words. He made sure you had coffee in the mornings, asked if you’d brought lunch, inquired how quitting smoking was going.<b><br/>
</b></p><p>He laughed when you told him it never went well.</p><p>“I’d do it for any of my partners,” he mumbled, once, when Steve teased him, thinking you were out of earshot.<br/>
“You don’t bring me coffee,” Steve had said, a playful-hurt tone in his voice.<br/>
“Yeah, well, you’re an asshole,” Javi snarked at him.<br/>
“Sure, yeah, it’s not because you have a major crush—”<br/>
“Shut UP, man,” Javi snarled.</p><p>Heat rises in your cheeks and you wait a few minutes before walking back into the small shared office.</p><p>“Hi, guys,” you’d said. Steve only smiled and Javi…Javi stood up and brought you a fresh cup of coffee.<br/>
“Yours was cold,” he said, shrugging when you thanked him, trying to brush the gesture off.</p><p>One day, you came into the office wearing a new outfit you found on a rare shopping trip with your mom. You were excited to wear it, more confident than you’ve been in months, but you didn’t expect anyone to notice. Especially not Javier Peña, with his uniform of jeans and button up shirts.</p><p>Jeans and button-up shirts he made effortlessly sexy by just existing in them.</p><p>But he noticed. He stood up when you came and asked, in a gentle voice “Is that a new outfit? It looks nice.”</p><p>You bit your lip, nodding.</p><p>“Thank you,” you’d responded, shyly.</p><p>Steve swung his head back and forth between the two of you, disbelieving.</p><p>“Jesus H. Christ, get a room already,” he said.<br/>
“Shut the fuck up, man,” Javi snapped, slapping him on the shoulder.</p><p>The night he gave you his leather jacket was the first time you’d kissed. He offered to walk you home from the bar where’d you gone to celebrate finding a lead. You don’t know if it was the snow, or the twinkling lights of Bogotà reflected in Javi’s shiny brown eyes, but the air was full of magic.</p><p>He came to you. You had one hand held up, fingers spread, letting the snowflakes fall onto your fingertips, shivering but happy. When you noticed him walking your way, you smiled at him. When he didn’t stop, your grin faltered a little, confused. He laced his fingers between your own, placed a palm on your hip, leaned his forehead against your own, and swayed back and forth, slow dancing with you in the falling snow.</p><p>“Javi?” you’d asked.<br/>
“Is this okay?” he’d replied.</p><p>All you could do was lean up to kiss him.</p><p>And, suddenly, life was full of stolen kisses in the halls; whispered declarations and promises while he worshipped your body, while you worshipped his; secret gifts left in your drawer at work; breakfast in bed after Saturday morning sex.</p><p>Steve knew, of course; he wasn’t an idiot. There were many times that he covered for the two of you. He did it because you made each other happy.</p><p>“Besides,” he’d said, “He’s much less of a son-of-a-bitch now that you’re around.”</p><p>You were so full of love you thought your heart might burst.</p><p>And then, one day, Javi was gone. Just gone.</p><p>Javi wouldn't open his door. He wouldn’t answer his house phone, or his cell, and he wasn’t at work.</p><p>You banged on Steve’s apartment door and Connie opened up to see your frantic expression, asking where he is, have they seen him? Connie’s face contorted in confusion, and Steve appeared behind her.</p><p>“Didn’t he tell you?” he asked, brow furrowed, rubbing his tired eyes.</p><p>No. He hadn’t told you anything.</p><p>By the time you found out what’s going on—that he’d been sent to Miami; he’d left without a word to you—you’re on your way to catch Escobar.</p><p>Time passed in a surreal way; the motions happened in front of you; the bullets came out of your gun, and Escobar died. When it was over, when you got back to base, Steve found you and pulled you into a hug. Your instinct was to fight him off, but you didn’t. You let yourself sob into his chest.</p><p>Finding out your lover had been involved in such horrible things wasn’t what upset you. You didn’t care about Los Pepes. You knew he did what he did because no one else would. You were hurt because he didn’t trust you enough to tell you. You were hurt because he disappeared without a word to you.</p><p>Like he did with Lorraine. You knew about his past and didn’t judge him for it. Everyone is young and foolish, once. But you think this might be a pattern. This might not be a <em>you</em> thing.</p><p>You picked up the pieces of your broken heart, and eventually, you started dating again. You found someone who was lovely, kind, thoughtful. They were not Javi. But you think that’s okay because no one was ever going to be Javi. So you met them for drinks and you kissed them and made love to them and even fell for them and finally, you moved in with them. You gave yourself to someone new.</p><p>And one day, they proposed.</p><p>For a moment, there was panic in your heart, and an old hurt flashed inside of you. If you accepted the proposal, you accepted Javi was never coming back to you. You would never feel him in your arms again, you would never feel his lips again. You would never lay in bed with him and plan your Saturdays. You would never fuss at him when he offers you a cigarette when you’re trying to quit.</p><p>You would never dance with him in the snow again.</p><p>But you swallowed the panic, remembered that it’s been over for a long time, and you wouldn’t have taken him back even if he asked you.</p><p>So you said yes.</p><p>The next time you saw Javier, it was at work. When you found out he’d be the new boss, you requested a transfer immediately. You didn’t want to see him. Unfortunately, it didn’t come fast enough; your last day was his first.</p><p>He pulled you into a conference room as soon as he could. Of course he did. He was so fucking confrontational, could never leave well enough alone. He could have just let you move along, but no. He needed to have his moment.</p><p>You folded your arms and looked up at him. He eyed the ring that flashed on your left hand.</p><p>“What do you want, Javier?” you demanded. You’d never called him Javier. Always Javi.<br/>
“Javier?”<br/>
“Yes, Javier. What do you need?”<br/>
“I wanted to…”<br/>
“To what? Explain yourself? Apologize? Tell me why you abandoned the life we built? Tell me why you couldn't trust me with Los Pepes? Why you couldn’t give me a fucking heads up about leaving me here without you? You told Steve, and everyone else. Not me, though. I didn’t get told shit—”<br/>
“<em>Querida</em>—”<br/>
“Don’t you fucking dare call me that,” you rage. He looks down at his feet.<br/>
“I couldn’t—if they knew you were close to me, then they would have taken you down, too.”<br/>
“I didn’t care, Javi. What I cared about was you trusting me enough to let me in on everything. I thought you loved—”<br/>
<br/>
“I do love you,” he said. His eyes were wide and pleading. You needed to walk out of there right now. If you didn’t, you would upend everything in your life for him.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah? You couldn’t fucking call? Not one phone call?”<br/>
“I-”<br/>
“No. We’re done. We’ve been over for a long time. I’m with someone else, I’m marrying someone else—”<br/>
“Are you?”</p><p>He picked up your hand and rolled it over, palm up, tracing circles the way he used to when you needed calming. For a moment, you let him, closing your eyes, remembering him. And then you came to your senses and yanked your hand back.</p><p>“No, Javi—it’s too late. You’re too late.”</p><p>You turned around and left him in that conference room.</p><p>On the plane ride home, your fiancé holds the same hand Javi traced circles over.</p><p>You break it off three days later.  </p><p>Tonight, it snows for the first time in four years in your small Louisiana town. The yellow lamps bathe the pavement below you, but there is no man to slow dance with you in the street.</p><p>Just a cold, bitter wind.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>